The Gentrys: Cinco

by Linda Conrad

  For the past hour she'd tried to calm him down enough to talk to her. He was certainly no threat to her, and she'd be damned if he'd be a threat to Cinco. But she had to keep trying to reason with him.

  He seemed so lost and angry. She'd been a lost kid once, too, although not a violent one. Her first strong instinct was to do everything in her power to turn him around.

  "That took you long enough," he shouted. "Get inside. The fire you started must've heated the place up good."

  She might've smiled, he seemed so serious and so young. But she was worried about Cinco. Meredith hadn't wanted to sound quite that cryptic on the phone when she'd called, but Bryan was standing beside her, ready to grab the phone and cut the connection if she didn't keep it short.

  She wanted to try heading off Cinco for a while. She needed a little time to convince Bryan to listen to reason, to accept responsibility for his actions—make amends.

  Bryan just needed the firm hand of experience, and she wanted to help. Maybe the snow that had already accumulated would keep Cinco's horses from getting here too quickly.

  Meredith stomped into the toasty-warm little shack in front of Bryan. She'd lit the small logs she'd found stacked in the stove's grate before she'd gone outside again.

  The Gentrys sure took care of their help. The place was all set up for a snow emergency. Plenty of food, soft bunks and lots of blankets. There was even a windbreak and some hay stashed out back for the horses.

  "Man, it's nice in here," Bryan said when they'd shut the door against the wind. "How about making us some coffee while we wait?" Bryan hung his coat on a peg.

  Meredith took her cowboy hat off and shook the snow from the brim. "Sure." She picked up the coffeepot and went to the dry sink. "I'm not sure I know how this pot works exactly. But I guess it can't be too tough."

  She reached up on the one shelf and took down a can of coffee. "Bryan, can we talk? I'm really worried about you, and I feel so guilty about everything. I never made an attempt to apologize after that mess at the road-house." The coffee can finally whooshed as it opened under her efforts. Now, she wondered, where would they keep the water?

  "No sweat." Bryan shrugged a shoulder. "I knew you were being held prisoner by the almighty Gentrys. I'm the one that's sorry I couldn't get to you sooner."

  Meredith turned to him and shook her head. "That's not the case, you've made that all up in your mind. I wasn't being held prisoner. I wanted to be there, no one forced me to stay."

  She thought about what she'd just said and realized it was true. She did want to be on the Gentry Ranch—with Cinco.

  Bryan went on like he hadn't heard a word she'd said. "But you're free now. After I get rid of that Gentry dude, we can go to the city and be together. I know the streets. Don't worry. You'll be safe with me."

  Geez. Why did every male she meet have to have some burning need to be her protector? What did they think she'd been doing for the last ten years of her life if not learning to protect herself?

  She dismissed the thought and bent to look for water under the sink. Maybe they'd keep plastic jugs of it behind the short drape down there.

  "Bryan, you're not listening to me," she mumbled as she peered into the dark. "I'm not going to the city with you, and you're certainly not going to get 'rid' of anybody."

  "Damn it! You don't care about me, either." Bryan began to scream behind her.

  Before she could straighten to react to his outburst, she felt him jerk the .38 from the waistband at her back. Apparently, her jacket had lifted high enough for him to spot the gun as she'd bent over.

  Spinning to face him, she found him pointing the .38 directly at her chest. "Easy does it. That gun is useless. Talking is the only way. Put it down and let's talk."

  Cinco had been standing outside the shack's door for the last few minutes, listening and wondering what his first move should be. Matt had dropped him off a few hundred yards away and then had returned the helicopter to the airstrip so the rotors wouldn't ice over. The strong winds had made the landing difficult but probably had kept the kid from hearing their approach.

  The sheriff's men were on their way in a couple of four-wheel-drive vehicles and should be arriving within fifteen minutes. Knowing Meredith could take care of herself, he'd considered waiting for them.

  But when he heard Meredith saying something to the boy about putting down the gun, Cinco's rational side fell apart. All he knew was that he had to get to her—had to rescue her before something disastrous happened.

  Cinco raised his rifle, bracing it against his chest. Then he put one hand on the door handle and smashed into the room with one giant swoop. "Drop that gun, kid, and get away from her."

  As he'd entered the room, the teenager stepped closer to Meredith, and pointed the gun at Cinco. "I don't think so, cowboy. You drop your gun."

  "Cinco, no!" Meredith looked surprised but moved quickly to a position shielding the boy. "Both of you put those guns away, right now."

  Cinco had immediately recognized the kid's gun as the one he'd given to Meredith. He wondered how she'd been negligent enough to let this delusional criminal take control of her weapon. And he really wondered about her stepping so quickly in front of a loaded gun. Was she crazy enough to trust this obviously disturbed teenager?

  "No way, babe," the teenager sneered from his spot half-hidden behind her. "I'm not letting any almighty Gentry take my head off just to make you happy. Let him put his gun down first."

  Cinco could feel the anger and frustration welling inside him. Oh, how he'd love to get his hands on this little troublemaker. Then he looked into Meredith's eyes and knew he couldn't do anything that might endanger her. As he came through the door, he hadn't put his finger on the trigger and now he tried hard to relax his hand. But he also wasn't about to drop his rifle and let this jackass teenager blow both of them away.

  "Cinco, please put the rifle down," Meredith pleaded.

  He shook his head and stood his ground. She was gazing at him in that special, strong but gentle way of hers. He felt his heart wrench at the thought of losing her.

  "Do you care about me?" she asked him quietly.

  "I care about you more than life," he confessed. "I love you, Meri. I can't let this kid shoot you."

  Her eyes widened for a second, then she smiled at him. "If it's true that you love me, how much do you trust me?"

  He had no words. Trust. Trust involved risk, but love itself was one huge risk. Cinco clenched his jaw. He wasn't entirely positive he was ready to go that far yet.

  "Cinco, darling. If you really love me, then you have to trust me to know what I'm doing … please." Meredith's eyes glazed over and he saw her bite her lip to stem the tears. "I promise you that Bryan will not shoot either of us."

  Nearing the point of explosion, Cinco wanted to shout. If he had the time, he'd show her how much he loved her by taking her in his arms. He would make her understand that trust was one thing he'd thrown away when his parents disappeared. It seemed too hard to dig up that emotion again simply because she'd asked.

  "Cinco, I love you, too." Her voice had steadied and the tears were gone. "Trust me … I'm begging you."

  In an instant, Cinco saw his destiny. He did love her. He'd never found this much love with anyone else. And he was truly willing to risk both their lives if that's what was necessary to prove it to her … and to himself.

  "All right, darlin'. Have it your way." He bent at the knees and set the rifle down on the floor, slightly behind him. But he never took his eyes off hers. If they were about to die together, he'd rather die with her face emblazoned on his mind.

  "This is all very touching, but it's making me sick," the teenager screamed. "Kick that rifle over toward me, Gentry."

  "Please don't do this, Bryan," Meredith's voice stayed soft but seemed even more determined as her attention turned to the teenager. "Put that useless gun down and prove to me you're willing to be reasonable and listen. I swear I'll find a way to help you if you just
give me a chance."

  "You've let him hypnotize you," the teen shrieked, and stepped out from behind her. "He has to die."

  The boy pointed the gun at Cinco's head and pulled the trigger.

  For an instant nothing happened. It had been too quick for Cinco to react. But when the kid's gun merely clicked once then remained silent, all three of them froze where they stood. Meredith was the first to recover.

  "Oh, Bryan. I'm so sorry you wouldn't be reasonable," she said as she spun, grabbed the surprised teen by the forearm and wrist—and twisted hard.

  Cinco was still standing, stunned and disbelieving, as the young boy's arm made a terrible cracking noise. At the same time, the kid went flying head over heels and landed in a heap on the floor.

  "Ow. You broke my arm, damn it," the boy cried.

  Cinco came out of the stupor, picked up the rifle and had his arm around Meredith's waist all before he took his next breath. "What did you do with the .38 bullets, love?" he murmured as he dragged her closer to him.

  "I threw them down the outhouse hole," she grinned. "You don't think I'd let an out-of-control teenager have access to a loaded gun do you?"

  God, she was spectacular. Cinco placed a quick, hard kiss on her lips, wondering how he'd ever lived without her.

  Within minutes the sheriff's deputies arrived. After much discussion, Cinco decided that he'd send the kid and Meredith to the ranch in the four-wheel drives while he took both horses back to their corrals. He didn't want to leave the horses alone, what with this weather and considering the coyote problem that the ranch had been facing.

  "No way, Gentry." Meredith's eyes were blazing as she bid goodbye to the injured, grumbling kid and slammed the deputy's door behind her. "I go where you go on the Gentry Ranch. That's the way it's been since the beginning and that's the way it will be until I leave. We'll both ride home together."

  * * *

  Twelve

  « ^

  "Hmm," Cinco said as he slung his arm around her shoulders. "I think I have a better idea." He moved them both back into the warmth of the shack and bolted the door behind them. "Let's have some coffee and warm up first."

  Meredith tugged off her jacket. "Good idea."

  The scent of the mesquite logs burning in the stove suddenly reminded her of erotic and sensual images. She was amazed at how they certainly had warmed up in this little room.

  She turned to Cinco, who'd removed his own jacket. "I'll make the coffee, but tell me, where do you keep the water?" Turning to the dry sink, she bent again to search below it.

  Then she felt Cinco move behind her. He hadn't answered her, so she quickly stood to find out what he was doing.

  Before she could make another move, he'd turned her in his arms, holding her loosely in his embrace. "Try the pump … in a minute," he murmured.

  He touched her hair, stroking back the loose strands around her face. "You're so beautiful, darlin'. I can't believe how much it hurt when I thought I might lose you." With a whispering softness, he placed his lips on hers and groaned into her mouth.

  Meredith braced her hands on his chest. She felt unsteady and weak in the knees, but she didn't want to be wimpy now after all they'd been through. His mouth moved to place tiny kisses along her chin and down her neck.

  She threw her head back to give him access and then trembled when he took it. So much for remaining strong, she mused—right before all other thoughts fled her brain.

  "You said you loved me. Did you mean it?" he asked in a husky voice.

  "Uh-huh." She didn't trust her own voice right now. So she leaned into him and put her arms around his neck.

  A hairbreadth separated them, but it was enough for Cinco to reach between them. Slowly he unbuttoned her shirt and slid it from her shoulders.

  His fingers skimmed along the outline of her bra, sending tingles shooting to her belly and beyond. Helplessly, she let him sweep over her as each erotic caress sensitized her skin, sending blood rushing to her nipples.

  "Aw, love. I wanted to go slow. I wanted to torture you for letting me sweat that unloaded gun." He moaned deep within his throat and pushed his hips against hers, letting her feel the full thrust of his arousal. "But I can't. You drive me crazy with wanting."

  He placed his mouth over one hardened peak and sucked right through the flimsy material of her bra. The heat and wetness assailed her with silky, delicious sensations.

  She felt herself falling, gliding through space. But he held her fast, urging her to stay with him.

  Suddenly on fire with desire and greedy for more of him, she grasped his upper arms and slipped out of her boots. Next, her jeans and panties came off with one hand while she held him to her breast with the other.

  When she reached for his zipper, Cinco had her bra off, dropping it to the floor without her knowing how he managed it. In the back of her mind, she knew she was stark naked while he was nearly fully clothed, but it didn't matter. She trusted him, and besides, it made her feel sexy and wanton—and more turned on than she could ever remember.

  Meredith slid his zipper down and wrapped her hand around his arousal. His skin was smooth, wet and rock hard. She stroked and gently squeezed him, loving the response she felt in his arousal. "Have mercy, love," he groaned. He backed her up to the table, kissing her senseless and driving her wild with a fever that threatened to engulf her soul. He skimmed his hands down her back and cupped her bottom. At the same time Meredith felt the rough material of his jeans rub against her core as he wedged his thigh between her legs and lifted her onto the table's edge.

  His tongue laved her sensitive nipple, while one of his hands slipped lightly between her thighs. The moan she heard next came from within her own chest as he tenderly dipped a finger deep inside her. The sensations came at her from every direction.

  She'd lost control of everything as the budding need pushed her to another kind of edge.

  "Wrap your legs around me," he begged.

  Meredith hung on to his muscular shoulders, lifted her hips, letting him fit himself inside her. "Oh, yes. That's fantastic," she cried.

  Her words must have done something to Cinco as he pushed even deeper and as she wrapped her legs tightly around him. Holding her close with one steady forearm, Cinco stilled, allowing her to accommodate him fully. A luscious feeling of completeness swam over her.

  When she opened her eyes, he'd inclined his head and was watching her with a dark, intense gaze. There was so much desire and red-hot need in that look that she almost missed the love that clearly shone within his eyes, as well.

  He'd said he loved her, and now she knew it was true without the words. It was written in his eyes and in the expression on his face as she felt him grow even harder inside her body.

  "Stay with me, darlin'," he gasped.

  He pumped into her then, taking each withdrawal with an exquisitely slow move. She felt herself begin to jerk, and was amazed that anything could be better between them than it had been the first time. She hadn't thought … she hadn't realized…

  With a hoarse cry she felt the shudders deep down at the very center of her being. They surged through her, rippling along her spine and down her nerve ends like a lightning bolt.

  Meredith knew the meaning of pure joy when her body convulsed around his. Cinco pushed into her one last time while the shudders seemed to move from her center into his. She clung to him, relishing the feel of his release spasming through his body and filling hers.

  She panted, while he stood supporting them against the table with his strong body. He let both of their breathing even out. The sweat dripped off her, but she stayed put and placed a kiss against his neck.

  "You feel so good inside me," she soothed.

  Meredith could feel Cinco's heart still beating wildly inside his chest next to hers. The thumping reality of it twisted in her own heart. She caressed his cheek with her fingers, deciding to memorize the feel of him—for later.

  But as she stroked his skin, she felt him harden in
side her once again. "Mercy. I just can't seem to get enough of you," he groaned.

  "Well, I can certainly stand it if you can," she teased.

  This time, though, they came together with a slow burn. The pleasure of it was nearly unbearable. They began an easy, sensual climb. And when the explosions started within her, she sobbed as passion misted her vision and clouded all reason.

  His name tumbled out of her mouth like a prayer while he swept them both up and over the peak once again.

  The next night Meredith dragged her duffel from the back of the closet, wondering if the world were actually collapsing around her, or if it just seemed that way. Twenty-four hours ago she'd thought nothing could ever be any better, nor could she ever be any happier.

  It was true she'd failed with Bryan, but the sheriff had convinced her that the teenager was mentally unbalanced and there was nothing she could have done to really help him. Mostly there was the sweetness of being in love and knowing she was loved in return. Cinco had touched her soul, given her friendship and shown her how responsive she could be to a man.

  Then, later that night, as they'd ridden toward the main house through the softly falling snow, everything somehow changed. The closer they came to the house, the quieter and more introspective he'd become.

  He'd tucked her into bed and told her he had work to do. But the following morning she'd faced a near stranger across the breakfast table. All she could remember Cinco mumbling over his eggs was an offer to give her transportation when she'd told him she needed to go back to flying.

  Meredith could feel the tears as they threatened to come crashing over her, but she battled them down. It turned out love wasn't all they needed. But she'd known right along their situation was impossible. If she was hurting, it was no one's fault but her own.

  "Hey, Meri." Abby stuck her head through the doorway and grinned. "What's going on?"

  "Not a thing," she said with a sniff and threw another T-shirt in the bag. "I'm packing to leave in the morning. The U.S. Marshal's Office called and said I was free to go wherever I liked as long as I kept in touch with them … and showed up for Rourke's trial. The airline has a new training class for pilots starting in Seattle next week and I need to go line up a place to live."